


If You're Afraid I'm Just A Kiss Away

by CummingZouis



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Eating Disorders, Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-12
Updated: 2013-04-12
Packaged: 2017-12-08 07:13:19
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,627
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/758558
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CummingZouis/pseuds/CummingZouis
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry’s pushing himself, working too hard and rushing off after meals, extra trips to the gym and runs in the park are being added to his already busy schedule, and Louis’ worried.</p>
            </blockquote>





	If You're Afraid I'm Just A Kiss Away

Harry wipes the sweat from his forehead, panting heavily as he bends over, arms resting on his knees, waiting for the air to return to his system. He shakes his head and stands up, looking around the park that is slowly darkening in the light of the evening, he’s confused, he used to be able to run for at least half an hour without stopping and now he’s reduced to just 10 minutes before he has to slow his pace because it feels like his lungs will literally burst. He takes a few deep breaths before beginning to jog again, he has to lose enough weight, he has to get down to 8 stone at least, but he’s willing himself to be skinnier than that, he has to be.  
The thing with Harry is, he’s always wanted to be the best for people, wanted to impress them, he’s always willing to change to make himself more likeable, better for the public eye. And with all the recent messages coming through via the internet and tabloids, saying that he was fat and should lose some weight, he’s decided to take their advice. So here he is, on his nightly run through the park so that he can burn off more calories before dinner.  
It’s no more than a few minutes before Harry feels the need to stop again, his breathing becoming unstable, air coming from his lungs in ragged puffs. But he knows he has to push through his difficulties, he has to get enough exercise so that he can get rid of all that fat he will have put on after that massive lunch the boys had shoved down his throat. I mean why did they have to choose to go to that ridiculous steak restaurant where there was no option for pretty much fat free lettuce? Which is what he’s been living on these past few weeks, lunch with the boys being exceptions, but he’s always managed to sneak off to the bathroom and throw up all that horrific food before he has even digested it properly. But, oh no, not today, because the bathrooms were either too far from their table, or too many fans were around or they just had to rush off to some stupid press event straight after their meal. Harry had been fuming, not even bothering to answer any questions, beating himself up inside because he was sure he could literally feel the food turning into that disgusting fat that decided to form around his stomach or thighs.  
So he continues to push himself, not stopping to catch his breath but just continuing to run laps through the park, his breathing beginning to come out in wheezes instead of just being short and unkempt now. The pounding of his head that Harry often gets when exercising now begins to become unbearable and he gives up, leaning against a tree and doing his best to get his breathing back to normal as soon as possible so that he can get enough running done meaning that he could at least sit through dinner with Louis without guilt overcoming his system, making him have to leave the table early, yet again.  
Harry checks his watch, his eyes scanning the Rolex dials which had been a present from his boyfriend last birthday, or was it Christmas? He can’t remember now. This has been happening lately, his memories fuzzing over and becoming clouded, because all his mind can focus on was food. He sees the second hand click round, until it finally reaches the time when it means it’s 8pm. Harry groans, leaning his head back against the tree, he knows Louis will start worrying now, because he’s normally back at their apartment by 7:30pm at the latest, and half an hour will feel like days in his boyfriend’s mind. And Harry knows that he should start on his journey home now, and he can always run there right? But much to Harry’s dismay, the demons in his head take over, and even if all he wants right now is to be held in Louis’ arms, he has to push himself and start running again, so that for once he can look in the mirror and feel good enough, and skinny enough to please everyone again. 

 

Louis is worried. As he stands there, leaning against the fridge, kicking the oven door shut, all he can think about was Harry, and the fact that as he lay there in bed last night, shirt discarded on the floor next to his own, he could see Harry’s ribs and collarbones, and they were all too obvious, jutting out at protruding angles, his tattoos more prominent and standing out against his skin, once lightly tanned in colour, now pale.  
Louis begins to think back to events that he now realises are reoccurring, the things that had been repeatedly happening over the past few weeks, Harry’s rushed leaving after most meals for example, or his persistence to go out on this nightly run through the park instead of staying home. But because Louis can’t face the truth he’s pushed his earlier worries to the back of his mind and forgotten about the situation entirely, until Harry’s bones are beginning to show through his shirt that is.

 

It’s about 8:30 when Harry walks back through the door of the apartment, hair sticking out at odd angles and forehead still glistening with sweat due to the fact that he’s jogged home after attempting to sprint but nearly collapsing on the side of the road. He sighs and leans against the door as soon as it shuts behind him, eyes closed as he pants lightly, relieved to be home. He hears the door of the kitchen swing open, and groans quietly in the back of his throat as he smells that familiar smell of pizza working its way into the hallway, the dread and fear beginning to pool up at the bottom of his stomach. But he almost doesn’t notice it now, because it’s his daily routine, and this feeling is much too normal to him, pretty similar to what he feels before every meal. So similar in fact, that he doesn’t even feel that worse, maybe it’s because he has become accustomed to feeling this odd wave of bad to inferior, or maybe it’s just because it feels strangely reassuring to him now.  
“Hey Haz.” Louis speaks gently, leaning against the doorframe of the kitchen, looking at his boyfriends skinny body which, at this moment in time, is almost dependent on the apartment front door for support when standing “Stayed out for a lot longer than usual.” He adds, his tone still fairly quiet and soft  
Harry opens one eye and flashes Louis a small, breathless smile “Sorry if I worried you boo.” He simply replies, still panting gently  
Louis shakes his head “The pizza’s almost done, you weren’t here to cook and they were the easiest thing we had in.” he says, fixing his fringe and walking towards his boyfriend, reaching him in a few long strides.  
Harry feels his bottom teeth slowly connect with his lower lip at the mention of food, he knows Louis is trying his best because Pizza is the only thing the older man can cook without burning the kitchen down “Okay, I’m just gonna go clean up.” He mumbles, pushing himself off the doorframe and walking straight past his boyfriend, heading for the bedroom.  
Louis sighs and gulps before grabbing Harry’s wrist and pulling him close, trying to ignore the fact that his hand fitted round the entirety of Harry’s limb, even though his own hands were much smaller than his boyfriends ever were “Haz wait,” he starts, looking up at the slightly taller man, pulling him even closer, their lips brushing together for a brief moment “I missed you.” He breathes against Harry’s mouth before kissing him softly.  
Harry lets his hands drop to rest on Louis’ waist for the brief moment their lips connect, before he pulls away, resting his forehead on the smaller mans “Lemme go clean up, yeh?” he whispers, all Louis does is nod in response, making Harry sigh before he places a quick kiss on his boyfriends cheek and walks back towards the bedroom door.  
Louis shakes his head as he watches Harry wander through the bedroom door, the older man finding his eyes fixated on his boyfriends legs, which resemble one’s of a too-thin supermodel who’s been on a strict diet created by her boss for summer fashion season. And that’s when Louis realised; maybe he should stop ignoring Harry’s habits and do something about it.

 

Dinner is silent. Both boys just simply sit there and nibble on their Pizza slices, looking at each other across the table but not exchanging any words. Harry drops second slice onto his plate, only half finished “I’m so fucking full.” He mumbles, hoping Louis won’t notice he blatant lying as he pushes his plate away from him.  
Louis rolls his eyes, taking a bite out of his third slice “Oh come on Haz, you normally eat like 5 slices.” He chuckles quietly, 5 may be a slight exaggeration to Harry’s usual consumption, but it’s not far off.  
Harry sighs, pushing himself away from the table “I’m just not hungry.” He replies simply, flipping his hair to the side as he stands up “I’m going to the loo, haven’t pissed since this morning.” He adds, making a quick excuse to sneak off to the bathroom, as usual.  
Louis raises an eyebrow “You okay?” he asks, his voice softening a little, but he doesn’t get a reply from Harry, because he’s already walked to their en-suite bathroom, which, Louis notes, is the furthest from the kitchen, where they had been eating together just a few moments before.  
Harry winds his way past the furniture, through their bedroom and into the en-suite, shutting every door he passes through. The en-suite is the furthest from where Louis is sitting and is an obvious choice for Harry. He takes a deep breath, shakily looking in the mirror, looking down at his body and seeing nothing but disgusting fat, although his thighs no longer touch, they are still, in Harry’s opinion, grossly oversized. His stomach, hidden beneath his shirt, which used to be tight fitting, but now hangs off him, loose and baggy, seems to me sporting a rather generous amount of weight, well it appears that way to Harry. And now he knows it’s time to get rid of it, again. Plus, maybe he could fit in some early morning hours in the gym tomorrow before the shoot, that could help.  
He kneels down before the toilet, shivering and wincing at the coolness of the tiles that sit beneath his knees. He braces himself, taking another deep breath, knowing this will hurt, he’s had enough experience after all, but retching freshly eaten food back up is never a pleasant matter, and he normally ends up in a sobbing mess afterwards, but it has to be done, he tells himself time and time again.  
So he sticks two fingers together and shoves them down his throat, gagging and already feeling tears brim in the corners of his eyes. That’s all he needs now though and he removes his fingers, his gag reflex working by itself after that. But nevertheless, he continues, choking up the food into the toilet. The tears falling thick and fast then, because it hurts, his throat is raw and he’s never chucked up this much before, because he normally got to go do it in the toilet every lunch.  
Louis hears it straight away, already confused to why he has never heard it before, maybe it’s because he has never really listened. But all that’s out the window now because Harry’s throwing up, Harry’s throwing up. It clicks in Louis’ mind and he stands up, rushing towards the en-suite without a second thought.  
He pushes open every door Harry has closed, the kitchen, the living room, the bedroom, and the bathroom. Louis takes a deep breath and pushes open the door “Oh Haz, babe.” He says quietly, shaking his head and running to kneel beside Harry “Shh, baby it’s okay.” he whispers soothingly, pushing Harry’s curls from his face and holding them there with one hand “It’s okay baby, I’m here.” Louis murmurs again, brushing his lips on the back of Harry’s neck softly as he crouches over the toilet, hands gripping the sides tightly, today’s lunch and his freshly eaten pizza coming up into the bowl. Louis uses his free hand and rubs small circles on Harry’s back, moving his lips all over his neck, right down to where the collar of his shirt comes up. 

Harry finishes being sick, shaking violently but calming as he feels Louis’ soft touch and breath wash over his ear as he whispers soothing things. He pulls back from the toilet and straight into Louis’ arms “I’m sorry.” He chokes out, not daring to look up at his boyfriend, because he feels guilty, and he’s scared he’s let him down.  
Louis shakes his head and holds onto Harry tightly, trying to ignore the fact that there’s barely anything to hug anymore “No no no, baby, don’t apologise.” He whispers, rocking him back and forth in his arms.  
Harry just holds on tighter, clinging to Louis for dear life “Am I skinny yet? Am I good looking again?” he mumbles into his boyfriends shirt  
Louis closes his eyes, shaking his head once more “Oh Haz,” he says, his voice barely a whisper “is that why you’ve been doing this?” his voice shakes as he speaks, because he already knows the answer, but doesn’t dare say it out loud  
Harry nods, a wrecked sob escaping from his throat “I just…I can’t…I’m disgusting.” He concludes, his body still shaking from the tears  
Louis’ shocked, disgusted, his body filled with hatred because no one makes his Harry feel like that, no one. Before he can stop himself he grabs his boyfriends chin, pulling his face up so their eyes meet “Harry, listen to me, you are perfect, you do not need to be skinny, you will always be good looking and attractive, but most of all, I will always love you, no matter what.” He tells Harry, voice sincere and full of feeling  
Harry simply nods, not sure what else to do, he wants to tell Louis he loves him too, but his throat is too raw and he’s not sure he can speak again after the last few sentences he managed to choke out.  
So Louis just sighs and pulls Harry forward ever so gently, and kisses him, like he always does. And Harry feels at home and safe as he kisses him back, lips pressing together slightly messily. Their tongues find each other for a second before Louis pulls back because Harry tastes of puke. His boyfriends self-conscious and hurt for a few moments before he looks up at Louis and sees him smiling, his eyes shining with slight amusement but still that same sincerity and apology. So Harry feels okay again, at least at that moment in time, because he’s got Louis, and he’ll always be there to kiss him after he throws up. Maybe one day he’ll stop, at least that’s what he hopes. And somehow as they sit there on the bathroom floor, limbs entwined in a tangled mess, everything feels better, and for the first time in months, Harry thinks something without realising how much of a step forward on the path of recovery it is  
‘Maybe I’m too skinny, and I really need to eat, plus that pizza smells amazing.’

**Author's Note:**

> This is what happens when its 3am and Charlotte has given me a prompt.


End file.
